Andy peered down at the tiny blood stains scattered around his room. Ten minutes before his mother had swept, there had been hundreds of tiny soldiers and Indians, mostly corpses, strung across the shag carpeting. Some had been scalped, others shot with arrows and bullets or stabbed. The few that were still alive perished with the rest as his mother sucked them up in the sweeper.
Andy liked watching things die. That was the best thing about the magic cupboard. It had the power to bring things to life, so Andy could stomp on them or burn them with lighters. It had only been a normal cupboard until he took it to the strange hermit who lived down the road. Andy asked him to put a spell on the cupboard in order to make it like the one he had once seen in a movie. And the strange man had worked wonders on the oak cupboard. It was definitely Andy’s new favorite toy. [...]
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